


This part of my life, this part right here? This is called "happyness" :)

by Pengi



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Light Angst, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 21:17:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16818628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pengi/pseuds/Pengi
Summary: OMG I saw Fede's latest Instagram post and just melted.And, of course, I have my own idea what made him so happy ;)





	This part of my life, this part right here? This is called "happyness" :)

**Author's Note:**

> https://www.instagram.com/p/Bq44ywbHGB5/

He's back. Back on the pitch. Back in Florence. It should be enough, right?

He waited for so long, missed so many games. Tried so hard to recover both physically and mentally. And he's finally back.

Today's game is more important to him that any other. His blood is no longer violet, it's black and white. He must prove it. And he tries. He gives his all in the few minutes he's on that pitch.

They win. Glorious 3:0.

And even though he barely contributed to any of that it should be enough, right?

The only thing that matters is that he's healthy, that he's ready.

He smiles and laughs but deep inside...

It's December. He's just cold. He never liked winter. He likes summer, sun and sea.

He's not unhappy. He's just cold.

Already dressed he waits outside breathing the air of this city. He was happy here, he thinks. Once upon a time.

It's cold.

Suddenly there's a hand on his shoulder. Fede doesn't need to look to know whose hand it is.

"Hey!" says Cristiano.

"Hey," he replies looking into warm brown eyes.

"You okay?" asks Cristiano.

He nods. He's fine. He has no reason not to be.

Cris stares at him with concern and Fede makes a point to smile even bigger.

He looks behind Cristiano's shoulder, searching for Mario. Those two became inseparable. And quite a force to reckon with on the pitch. Who would've guessed?

It's good for the team that CR7 and MM17 are such a good pair.

He tries not to think about the name newspapers came with months ago. 'Ronaldeschi' sounded promising. He has no one but himself to blame that it's already forgotten.

Mario's nowhere to be seen. Maybe he's already on the bus. Other guys start to come out and he feels even colder when Cristiano's hand slips from his shoulder.

He closes his eyes and listens to music on their way to the hotel. He doesn't want to see the city, he doesn't want to hear his excited teammates.

He dreams, for a brief second. A memory, a wish. A hug.

Summer, sun and sea. Fede opens his eyes and sees Cristiano on a seat next to his.

"I missed you, you know," says Cristiano, taking Fede's AirPod out.

He just nods and swallows. Takes out the second AirPod and tosses it aside.

"It's good to have you back."

"It's good to be back."

Cristiano takes his hand and turns it palm up. Fede waits for him to drop an earpiece into his hand but instead of small piece of plastic he feels warm skin.

Their fingers interlace instinctively. Like they've done it thousand times before.

"Tea?" asks Cristiano.

"Coffee," he says.

"I only have tea in my room."

Oh. Well...

"Tea it is then."

It's not even black tea but something herbal. He hates it. But they sit on crisp hotel sheets and Cris is so close and so warm.

Fede talks about Florence. He doesn't know why he tells Cris everything he learned while he lived here.

In return Cris tells him about Madrid.

Their voices grow softer. Their yawns - bigger.

On a verge of falling asleep he looks at Cristiano.

"You would've been my muse," he says. "If we lived centuries ago and I was a painter - you would've been my muse. I would've drawn you countless times. Made you immortal."

"If we lived centuries ago we never would've met."

"No. I would've found you, I know that. I would've searched the whole world until I found you. My muse."

They fall asleep like that. Still fully clothed. Tired. Together.

Fede dreams of summer, sun and sea. Cristiano always smells like those three things. Like he absorbed every summed day, every ray of sun, every ocean wave while growing up in Madeira.

He'd recognize that scent everywhere.

Only one person on Earth smells like his personal heaven.

Fede wakes up alone. The sheets are cold. If it weren't for summer, sun and sea he would've thought he slept in his own room.

He get's up and goes to the bathroom. There's a small note left for him and a heart drawn on the mirror with toothpaste.

_off to the gym!_  
_be back soon,_  
_your muse ;)_

He brushes his teeth and draws a second heart. It comes out looking clumsy and crooked.

Maybe if he lived centuries ago he wouldn't have made it as a painter after all. Well, he could've been a musician then. Or a poet.

The only thing he knows for sure is that Cristiano would've been his muse anyway. His inspiration. His motivation.

When he returns to the room Cris is waiting for him on the bed. He's glowing. Smiling. So beautiful it hurts.

This moment, right here. This is happiness.


End file.
